Aphrodite Charlatan

Love furnace hot make me to lava melt
Temper me hard in slow fierce glacial cold
Stroke me to ecstasy with feathers; hold
me fast in chains and whip me. Every welt

is passion’s fee. We pay for love in coins
not made of metal; heartbreak is our fee
and what we buy with it. Our tragedy
is that our aching hearts and burning loins

will never last. Love fades or maybe dies
as lovers do. And yet while passions last
each one seems different from its sisters past.
We cry ‘this is eternal’ as it flies.

We worship you as trickster. Let me say
Love’s goddess can’t be any other way.

Advertisements

About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s